James Benn: The First Wave

"Sam, what are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?" Now she turned on the charm, looking back and forth between Walton and Harding, eyelids fluttering, then looked as if she were about to cry. Walton seemed stunned.

"We know about you and Villard."

Now I was stunned. Harding made this accusation with conviction. I guessed there was something in their past that caused him to make that leap. This time Gloria was silent. Harding kept on speaking, never taking his eyes from Gloria, tapping the table with his index finger as he made each point.

"We know you tried to kill Lieutenant Kazimierz in order to get the notebook from him, and to eliminate him in case he knew anything that might endanger you. He will testify that you gave him an injection, and there are witnesses. I have men searching your quarters now. We'll search the entire hospital if we have to, and we'll find the code book. We know that's here too. And the nalorphine, and your private supply of morphine. It's all here. We know everything," he added, that last sentence as a quiet afterthought, the only evidence in anything he said of his pain.

"If somebody has done all these terrible things, they could also have framed me, have you considered that?" Gloria tilted her head.

"We know you used this telephone to call Bessette or Villard and arrange to have us ambushed as we drove back to the hotel."

"If you know everything, what more do you need from me, Sam? Do you enjoy seeing me suffer?"

"I want to know why," Harding said.

She laughed. "You know everything, and nothing." She folded her arms. Not exactly a confession, but not a protestation of innocence either. It was awkward.

There was nothing for me to say, so I glanced around the room. I looked at Walton's books. All the Army manuals, medical texts… and one empty space.

"Where's your Gray's Anatomy?" I asked Walton, my eyes on Gloria. She flinched.

"What the hell does that matter?" Walton growled. Then he surveyed his shelves. "Damned if I know. People borrow my books all the time."

I looked at Gloria. What would she need to decode now? What was in the notebook that she didn't already know? Then I knew. Light dawns on Marblehead, as my dad used to say, whenever he figured out something that should have been obvious from the start.

"Captain Morgan," I said, as calmly as I could "What was it? Bank accounts?"

Everyone in the room looked at me, quizzically.

"Let me guess. Swiss bank accounts. You weren't just after a split of the take from drug thefts, no matter how valuable the penicillin was. You were after that notebook for yourself. You were going to double-cross the Bessettes. With Villard? Or were you double-dealing him, too?"

She said nothing. No more sweet Southern murmurs, no more innocent fluttering eyelashes.

"Captain Morgan," Harding stated, in his official voice, "you will shortly be arraigned for a General Court-Martial on a number of offenses, including murder, attempted murder, larceny, embezzlement, and a host of lesser charges. You will be lucky not to be executed, as these crimes occurred in wartime."

"Why are you telling me this, Sam?"

"Tell us why. Why did you do it? Cooperate. Please." Begging her to explain cost Harding. It revealed his agony.

"Oh, you poor dear man," Gloria said, laughing. "What, will you promise only to shoot me with one bullet instead of ten? You could learn a lot from Billy, Sam. He's more intelligent than he looks."

I felt sympathy for Harding, and even a little for Gloria, but she was a cold-blooded killer who had confessed her guilt. She had been playing everyone, probably even Villard, and there was no way she was going to beg for mercy now. She had counted on making a big haul, and if she couldn't have that she wasn't going to settle for a little pity from Harding.

The noise in my head returned, a low buzzing sound. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if it would go away, but it got louder and louder. I tried to ignore it, but then I noticed everyone else was looking out the windows. The door flew open and Harry burst in.

"Air raid. Get to the shelters!"

There was a rush to the door. Harding took Gloria's hand. I fell in behind them. I expected her to twist away, to reject him or even to try to escape. She didn't. But she looked scared. Maybe she needed a little tenderness. Maybe Harding wanted something from her other than contempt. I don't know. What I wanted was a well-built air raid shelter over my head.

The slit trenches were still there, but there were improved shelters as well. Sloping walkways had been dug into the ground, with entrances covered by wood beams layered with sandbags. Some of them were pretty large, and nurses were guiding the patients who could walk into them. I knew there were plenty of nurses, doctors, and patients left inside, and I prayed the Luftwaffe wouldn't aim at the hospital. At the same time I wished the army would move the goddamn supply dump next to us a good ten miles down the road.

We made our way down into a smaller shelter. We had to duck going in, and the ceiling was low inside as well. I couldn't stand up straight, so like most everybody else I squatted and listened to the insectlike buzzing get nearer and nearer.

"Where's the bloody RAF?" Harry asked no one in particular.

There was a faraway sound of bombs, explosions that sounded like fireworks. It lasted a full minute, the buzzing coming ever closer. I heard the rhythmic, slow, pumping sound of a 40mm anti-aircraft battery, not too far away. I glanced at Harding. He was crouched by the side of the door, still holding Gloria's hand. A jailer or a lover?

The anti-aircraft batteries around the supply dump opened up, and the noise level increased, until we couldn't hear the planes anymore, which didn't matter since the anti-aircraft fire meant they were coming our way. Gloria took her hand away from Harding and lowered her head, covering her ears tightly. Harding put his right arm around her.

As smooth as silk, she made her move. She lowered her left hand, as if she was going to take his again, but it kept going, down to his leather holster. She unsnapped it, pulled out the big. 45 automatic, flipped the safety off and raised it to Harding's head.

"Get back. No one move or I'll kill him!" she screamed loud enough to be heard over the anti-aircraft fire and the thudding of bombs that had started to shake the ground. Clumps of dirt shook loose from the sides of the shelter as if someone was just outside hitting it with a sledgehammer.

"Gloria, don't, there's no where you can go," Harding pleaded with her. She backed toward the entrance.

"You're right, Sam. Nowhere. You've got me right where you want me. But I'm not playing by your rules. If I can't have it all I'm not going to rot in a stockade waiting for the firing squad."

"Gloria-" Harding began, moving closer to her. She pulled the hammer back and held the automatic, squarely aimed at his forehead.

"I'd hate to do it," she said, "but I will. Back off."

Harding eased back. She unbuttoned two buttons of her fatigues and reached inside her shirt. Hidden within the bulky men's uniform was the notebook.

"You're a smart young man, Billy. Here's your reward. Five million dollars, maybe more. Waiting in Switzerland." She tossed the notebook to the ground and backed out of the shelter. Another load of bombs hit nearby and I could feel the vibrations shake the ground. Harding followed Gloria to the entrance. She fired once, striking the ground in front of him. Then she was gone.

Harding started after her. I grabbed him by the shoulder, to prevent him from jumping out of the shelter.

"You can't go out there, Major!"

"Let go of me, Boyle!"

He turned and swung at me, hitting me on the jaw hard enough to loosen my grip. He scrambled up the walkway and I followed. The enemy aircraft were almost on top of us. I pulled him down. We both crouched as low as we could as tracers lit up the sky and the chatter of machine guns joined in, small puffs from the 40mm guns exploding above us. Straight into this hell flew five, no, six formations of four bombers each. I could hear other bombs going off farther away, and guessed this was only a part of the main raid. Heinkel 111s again, their spade-shaped wings beginning to become visible.